Stolen Season
by ajattra
Summary: 2x01 Cursed AU. Cassie is betwitched by a pair of green eyes at the moment of her greatest terror. Now those eyes become her door to the past of the fallen ones and perhaps an unlikely kindred spirit... ON HIATUS.
1. Baraqiel

**Stolen Season**

**by saint's hands**

**-**

chapter one: Baraqiel

-

_I don't care if I die_

_as_ _long as I can have you by my side_

_all_ _forgotten is gone to sing this lonely song;_

_things_ _just happen without no reason;_

_Love's a stolen season_

-

One moment it was coldness, the other the fresh, lush air of the creation they'd once been banished from. Everyone was there; he could sense their joy of release and felt it spread through him like an electric jolt as well. It'd been years since his last release from their prison and even that visit had been brief in nature. Humans and their weaknesses had come between his master's plans and sealed them all away once again.

He didn't waste his breath on contemplating old things though, no, he knew he'd been summoned here for a reason. Unlike with some members of the Nephilim their reunion wouldn't be a drunken moment wasted in reminiscent of the old days and old women and old sins. He was more farsighted than that; work was still ahead even if Azazeal had succeeded in bringing his offspring into this world.

Baraqiel stretched his wings and limbs, feeling how flesh and tendons moved the slightest bit after finally being able to breathe. Like most of the fallen ones he'd been spent most of the time of his imprisonment in a stasis of sorts, barely awake at all. That rest is what made his body ache now that he used it once again. He made sure he'd returned as whole before he eventually reversed into his human guise.

Upon realizing his hard skin had become soft and pink and his long claws had turned into dexterous fingers Baraqiel smiled to himself and rose from the floor where he'd kneeled. The cloud of his transformation soon conjured forth his old clothing that time had not treated with the same grace as his body. One moment he was shivering over the cold floor and the next he wiped the dust from his clothes. They didn't feel at all warm or comforting but at least offered some protection from the public eye as well as the outside air that his human shell so easily reacted to.

He remained unsatisfied however and decided to tear the high collar from his white shirt for bothering his freedom. Upon acting on this thought he finally breathed in the dusty air more zealously than the first time around. Its composition was grainy but the fresh feel and the gentle touch of impurities tickled his sensitive throat when he inhaled rather made him enjoy the simple act of inhaling. _The human world has always been such a curious place… _

His green eyes scanned the clothes further for other annoyances but he was satisfied with them now. Baraqiel's stiff fingers raked his blonde hair curiously, sensing no change in his looks. His wondrous green eyes were still captivating and his hair short unlike when it'd been during his time as a servant of God. Many things had changed since then but when he wore this human shell, it was almost as if nothing had changed.

During his most glorious days as a servant of heaven he'd enjoyed the favor of many men and women for his beauty. Then God had seen fit to take it from him upon his learning of his sin; losing his heart to a little enchantress, who had silk as her skin and fire as her spirit, had been the cause of his exile and the shame and boredom that'd followed and lasted for centuries. Now his true guise wasn't beautiful in God's face but ugly and distorted. He hated how God had looked at him afterwards and how humans had stared at him in terror.

Mortal women weren't worth all that anguish, Baraqiel had sworn to himself after learning to take a false human form during the times he ventured among them. Yet he found solace in their arms each time Azazeal had managed to bend the borders of their prison just enough for a few of his favorites to slip through. After the original sin had been committed nothing had kept Baraqiel from sinning more in the hope of drawing God's gaze upon his ugly form and deed.

"You look like a mess," A gentle voice called, making the other Watcher glare around him and then bow theatrically at nothingness after he'd recognized the voice calling to him.

"Forgive me Azazeal, I must still be far more beautiful than you are after all these years if you're alerted by this vision of disorder," Baraqiel taunted back and felt the soft shivering of air around him as Azazeal revealed himself from the shadows, appearing by his side.

"In your dreams boy," Azazeal replied softly, landing his hand on the angel's shoulder. He was taller than Baraqiel, whom he still considered to be a youngling despite their always identical age and level of power. It had to Baraqiel's carefree nature that always imprinted a youthful impression into people's minds whereas Azazeal's quiet brooding look instantly gave him more age despite his gorgeous appearance.

These two had competed even before they'd fallen together as brothers and time hadn't been able to change that. It'd never been serious, not even before Azazeal had gained his status as the ruler of the Nephilim. Baraqiel had always been eager to follow commands and pass them onto his followers. He didn't waste his time in waging war between the Watchers, although there had been others who'd been willing to question Azazeal's leadership in the past.

"I believe you summoned me for a reason other than allowing me the chance to take a walk?" Baraqiel asked, rather amused by the effect his question had on Azazeal; his face brightened up as proof of his successful campaign. "I see you've sired another child then," Baraqiel continued, simply glad that at least something was going according to plan this time.

"However the mother has proved herself difficult to control... I have not secured her yet," Azazeal confessed, sitting down over the wooden seats of the church they'd inhabited. It was only now that Baraqiel as well recognized their surroundings and felt a sting in his heart for thinking about their maker, whose house they had occupied. The tall glass paintings above filtered light of red and blue and yellow upon the aisle but even their stretched shadows didn't reach the angels. It felt like an omen in his heart.

Baraqiel set his eyes on Azazeal again, witnessing his hesitation first hand. Azazeal took notice of this but didn't care to explain the situation further just yet. Baraqiel was the only one he could trust with this dilemma and task, for he was the only fallen one Azazeal believed could understand the situation.

Cassandra had, against his expectations, proved to be beyond his control and Azazeal hadn't met too many of such women in his time. Rachel and Herath came to his mind instantly although their strength had lied with him, instead of against him. Even now the thought of that strength, how it'd felt to wield it when she'd submitted to him, made him ache. If she was still possessed he knew he could've brought her down, but with her defenses and doubts it would be too time consuming to start wooing her again. Yet Azazeal had to make sure Cassandra would not be recruited onto the other side, thus he'd summoned Baraqiel.

"I want you to watch her, make sure she's safe and that she doesn't plot anything against me."

It wasn't exactly what Baraqiel had had in mind. He'd assumed Azazeal would have him secure the route for the child, perhaps eliminate his enemies or watch over the child. A runaway spouse, doing as she willed, certainly didn't sound like Azazeal. Had the angel lost his touch with women, whom he usually wrapped around his finger and used till their deaths? It did sound intriguing though…

Baraqiel smirked at the thought, gaining a warning look from Azazeal. "You will shadow her in your true form, not this human skin," he commanded, gaining a frustrated gruff from the other angel, which only made him add, "Starting of now."

"I've been held within that prison for centuries Azazeal. You could at least allow me a single night's pleasure." Baraqiel protested, raking his hair clearly unsatisfied. Azazeal didn't change his order though. Cassandra's safety most certainly came before the angel's carnal needs that had proved to be the only flaw in Baraqiel's otherwise flawless character.

"Cassandra tried to terminate her pregnancy. If she learns our child is still alive, she might seek him out," he explained. To Baraqiel it was entertainment to hear Azazeal silently admit he might've not been able to sway her mind in such case. He could only imagine how the information had to bother Azazeal himself.

Ah… So finally there was an interesting plaything among Azazeal's conquests?

"Fine," Baraqiel admitted, sitting on the opposite bench row from Azazeal. He knew the child would soon reach maturity in which case the mother would seize being a threat. Best case scenario was of course Azazeal regaining his magical touch and seducing her again to keep her loyal to him.

"What is she like, this Cassandra?" Baraqiel asked. He was already savoring the thought of trailing her steps day and night; hoping he'd see at least as much interesting things as with Rachel. Now that woman had burned even his entrails with just a glare. His daydreaming was quickly interrupted by Azezeal's cold tone of voice however.

"She is innocent, inexperienced and prudent."

Now that certainly didn't sound like anything Azazeal would've felt attracted to; she was too saint-like. Still she was the witch, whose offspring could bring about the End of Days, and Azazeal's bride of sorts. Baraqiel was more than aware of what or who she needed to be protected from because of her status.

"I see," he simply mumbled back, falling deep in thought. Now that he thought about it there was no dilemma or sacrifice involved. It was an honor Azazeal had placed upon his shoulders. A few weeks in his true form among humans couldn't possible be that terrible, even though it did bring chills to the slightly narcissistic angel's spine.

"Does she live at Medenham?"

Azazeal didn't answer at first, merely glared intensively at the glass painting by the altar and the way its shadow had stretched even closer to them in such a short time. This lead Baraqiel to assume she did though and he nodded to himself as his beautiful green eyes became clear at the same time, "McBain…"

Baraqiel didn't give a warning before he fled and allowed his lighter being to vanish slowly into nothingness. He abandoned his human guise quickly transforming into his real self. Even the cold rain outside felt gentle against that hardened skin and its touch seemed to vanish completely when he started running on four feet, the powerful muscles in his arms and legs working in perfect harmony.

Medenham was where he'd last been when he'd tasted freedom in this world. It was curious that he should end up there again.

-

**A/N**: Lyrics are The 69 Eyes "Stolen Season"


	2. Hole in the Earth

**Stolen Season**

chapter two: Hole in the Earth

-

_Do I know you from somewhere?  
Why do you leave me wanting more?_

-

Troy was gone and she felt nothing. The news didn't shock her or make her worry over his safety. She didn't even feel guilt for having driven him away. She'd been in love with him for so long that she'd forgotten how it'd even begun. The small things must've affected her at first: his smile maybe, the way he looked when he was troubled by some assignment they were working on, the furrows, his bed hair when he overslept…

Now it was nothing; she didn't miss him or particularly even reminiscent their short time together. Every encounter since she'd obtained the urn seemed unromantic and unable to awaken her desires now that she thought about them afterwards. Just like the clumsy lovemaking when he'd been possessed or making out in his car. She'd been able to stop at any time because her feelings for him were just on the surface and drawing from passion within her that didn't have any particular target. She'd just wanted _someone_ for so long that it'd been easier to pick him.

And now? She'd discovered her true soul mate in that wretched man who used her and lied to her and gave her the sweetest bliss in bittersweet wrapping? Was that love? Was that desire?

It felt like he knew her inside out and could tell she just wanted intimacy right now. He'd lied to her. Lied so cruelly that she wanted to pull away for good and never touch anyone again like that.

Cassie buried her head in her hands, the large natural white sleeves hiding every inch of her face. She had messy hair, no make up on her face. Who cared about that? – Certainly not anyone in this goddamn elitist school.

Thelma was growing worried over Cassie. The girl had not been herself after the abortion. Of course she knew the first few days Cassie had pretended to be all sunshine but now it seemed like her energy had dried out and she had nothing left to give. Azazeal hadn't come around here giving more of his demands and for that Thelma was happy. He ought to find some other easy to pick on witch descendant to have his babies with! Only Thelma wasn't quite sure if he even needed another witch because…

The mere thought made it feel like her heart had stopped again. Thelma had known all along that the baby was the only reason she was allowed to stay in this world with Cassie and that once the baby's life had ended, she'd also disappear from this world. Now the procedure was supposed to be over and done with, only she was still here and Cassie was about to drown in the guilt she didn't even acknowledge herself.

Perhaps Azazeal had got to them first. Perhaps the baby was still alive, able to survive even outside its mother's womb. It was possible he'd have grown enough in that short time, which meant that now Azazeal had his child and a depressed Cassie posed no threat and didn't need to be watched. Thelma glanced at her friend carefully, afraid that all her doubts would be like written notes on her face if Cassie just looked at her. Cassie didn't, she was too stuck in the emotional spider web that evil man had spun.

What use had there been in keeping this secret from Cassie? It didn't even offer her peace of mind! And to be stuck here watching Cassie suffer like this without even being able to hold her and comfort her was torture.

It wasn't guilt she felt, no, she'd done that in awhile ago. This was the moment of clarity when you realize what you can do and what you can't. If telling the truth would at least bring some life into Cassie, that's what she needed to do. Cassie wouldn't allow Azazeal to raise the baby, no, she'd seek them out and fight him – Thelma knew that for sure. That was also what she feared would happen and had tried to prevent. However Cassie needed to know, couldn't move on until she too felt clarity again instead of the loud confusion.

"Cassie," Thelma said with shaking confidence and prepared to let go.

For Cassie she'd do anything: Even death – twice.

-

Seeing the changes in Medham immediately made Baraqiel want to abandon his ugly form and seek comfort in a more suitable lie. It was impossible of course for Azazeal had forbidden him and with a good cause. Knowing his old friend, he'd only sought out to prevent Baraqiel's focus from shifting into less important issues such as the temptation the young humans filled him with. It stirred his insides, sharpened every sense until his vision became unbearable and he had to close his eyes and remember just what he was supposed to be doing.

It wasn't easy to be here again, especially since he'd had much more freedom the last time around. Back then he'd stood by Rachel's side day and night, always watching, always reporting. At least he'd been allowed to amuse himself with the humans Rachel lured for his joy. It wasn't that Baraqiel had ever needed any help in that department but somehow Rachel had seen it better that no one else caught a glimpse of her handsome guest, her cousin as they lied to the public. He kind of missed that woman even now; the soft way she'd called him her cherub.

The fallen angel did not despair however; this torture couldn't go on for long. The child would soon reach maturity and there'd be a calm period where he could do whatever he wanted to while Azazeal and Samyaza gathered their forces. The Nephilim would be allowed to exit their prison all at once and Baraqiel would see everyone again. So this was but a minor annoyance.

Yet as the days passed Baraqiel began growing more and more comfortable in his mission. Cassandra was everything Azazeal had described and more. She didn't appear strong, or particularly convincing in her act. There was something about her shy smile though, something heartwarming. She just didn't fit in, wasn't accepted among the other humans. It was strange for the stench of witch craft really didn't sully that girl and he could tell her isolation was far from willing.

He wanted to examine her closer, find out what it was about her that had Azazeal so enthralled. Of course the angel had done almost everything in his power to fight it and never show it, but the way he'd put her down and eagerly painted her picture into an unimportant one really spoke of something else. Even now the insight made Baraqiel's stomach and throat tickle with laughter. Their prideful and arrogant Azazeal enslaved by a simple girl – now that was a thought!

Trouble waited in the horizon though and soon Baraqiel forgot all about his sexual frustration as he raised his ugly head for real. The girl awoke from her coma, raging and screaming and her despair fuelled her powers. That's when he caught a glimpse of what Azazeal had been so taken in by – her true spirit. She'd hidden it under heavy layers of clothing, tried to mask it with everything but the cosmetics Azazeal had introduced to the humans in the dawn of their fall.

This is how it began. He followed her around, forgetting all about the things he'd sworn to do upon his next release or the needs of his demon form. He became reckless in his quest to catch every last glimpse of her, hoping she'd flare and show more of that spirit. And when he grew more anxious, she began to notice she was being followed and caught glimpses of him as well.

For some reason it didn't bother him at all.

-

Her child was alive and the fear in that doctor's eyes could only be inflicted by Azazeal. He'd had gone as far as killing a man, whose only crime had been helping him in bringing her child into the world. He was a murderer.

"I know I've not got what the others have, but I'm a good guy."

"Of course you are," she nodded at Felix's words, but they escaped her quickly and her mind only returned to the child. Malachai, he'd already named their child and she was free to join their family if she wanted to. But would the cheating and lying ever stop? Azazeal used women, it was his way; He'd used her!

"You're not really like them either."

No, she wasn't quite human, didn't fit in here. But was her place with Azazeal either? Being the… what? His bride, the concubine of a fallen angel? Perhaps she was just his last thread of hope in bringing his heir into this world? Yeah, it was that part she always forgot when he started with his confessions and wooing. She was cheap to him, an imitation of something he'd failed to have, and that's why he treated her the way he did.

"No, I guess not," she replied a tad more reserved than before. Her gaze wandered away from Felix and his confessions. Was that Nephilim still there? Watching her every step and making sure she didn't interfere with whatever it was Azazeal was really planning on doing?

"Well, I can't believe I'm about to say this but this party is making me really depressed."

Cassie turned her head to him again. That melancholy tone had caught her voice and her nurturing instinct responded. Here she was thinking only of herself when Felix was opening himself to her and about to tell her things he wouldn't normally share with anyone. She couldn't just piss at him for trusting her like Azazeal had done to her.

"But I really like you Cassie. I think we could be good together."

It wasn't a soft seduction, or a promise she wanted to be real with every cell in her body. Nothing in his words stirred her and yet it was better than any of Azazeal's lies. He could be a true friend, Cassie knew it.

"Not good quickly like everyone else when it's all over in two weeks."

No, he wasn't offering friendship was he? He was trying to say he loved her, or was beginning to. Once again she'd have someone to project these feelings to and pretend it was enough when it wasn't. As cruel as it was only Azazeal had succeed in making her whole, even if it'd been an act on his part.

"But properly you know? We could talk!"

No they couldn't. She was a witch, her best friend was a lesbian ghost and she was trying to deny her feelings for a fallen angel. Felix was just a guy, a lonely guy. Azazeal's jealousy for Thelma had gotten her killed. No matter how much Cassie might've needed someone alive to just talk to or hang out with the truth was Azazeal most likely would end all such relationships.

"Watch movies, I bet we even like the same food!"

"Felix," she tried interrupting but his soft voice continued without her permission,

"Because we're not like them. We've got something that could be special."

She almost wanted to grab him and sob against him. While holding him she might tell him they could never even be friends, because of what had happened to her. She'd been marked, she belonged to Azazeal and she was the only one, who could fight it.

"Because we both know life's too short and you're alone too long."

She knew. If nothing else, she knew that.

"So what do you say Cassie? You and me?"

He hoped and he had no idea of the anguish she was under. He hadn't noticed for a second how troubled she'd been through out his speech. So in the end this wasn't as much about her as she'd thought. He was lonely, she was lonely. He thought they could fix one another. But they really couldn't.

"Felix you're right," she began, fighting the anguish that wanted to fill her eyes. But she had to crush him for the other option was too cruel.

"We're great friends and I think we will be for a really long time."

The way he was shaking his head struck a blade in her. His defeat was so obvious, the pain she'd inflicted readable in every gesture. But life didn't work like she would have it work. You couldn't keep people close or push them away without hurting them. And explaining really didn't help at all.

"I'm such an idiot."

"Felix!" He shot her down with his blaming eyes. Her image crumbled from a miracle into a truer view.

"Oh please," he denied her, turning his look away. It wasn't begging nor was he he a fool. "I'm such a fucking idiot!"

By now the self accusations had taken him over, the excuses that told him he wasn't good enough. "Of course you wouldn't like me." He looked directly at her for a second before running off. She said his name and ran after him, unable to leave him alone right now even though it might've been for the best.

Cassie followed him through some distance, caught the sound of his silent sobs and felt the sting in her conscience even stronger. But she approached because she might make it better. She might find a way to make it easier. "Felix," she called to him softly, "I'm really sorry."

"I just thought for once," he replied, his voice shaking and tainted with sorrow, "Something was gonna go right."

"I can't stand the way things are now," he claimed, clearly angrier this time around.

Neither could she. Everything had gone from worse to worse and right now she felt suffocated.

"I know."

"No!" he turned around, facing her near furious. She didn't have the right to continue claiming they were alike! "You don't!" Then his expression softened again, after seeing her look back at him with all that hurt. He partly regretted saying that but knew better.

"Everybody likes you Cassie… You're fine."

As sad as it was that really wasn't the case. Long before she'd arrived here, she'd been an outcast; always dwelling in her own dream world, tied to this world only by her sick mother and then Thelma. Here she hadn't really been one of them, the rich brats, who were above everything. She might've acted like them while possessed but that wasn't the true her.

"It's not true."

She hoped her words could reach him and for a moment she was sure they had. Then his look became bitter again and he put her down again.

"Now you're looking at me like I'm an idiot."

No. She wasn't!

"Felix," she tried, forgetting the words she could've said.

"Don't, please." He shook his head and she began walking up to him.

She could at least hold him, so she reached for his hand. "Stop it!" Then he jerked, threw her off and she lost her balance meeting with the ground. Surprise caught her, then the pain and then she realized there was nothing she could do. She was in no position to try and make it better anymore.

"Oh god, Cassie!" he reached his hand to her to help pick her up, clearly sorry of what he'd done. Only it was a distant sound to her ears and never became stronger than an echo; she never quite heard his last words as his chest was slit and the hot blood showered at her.

He breathed aloud one last time and then fell down with a thump not far from her. She stared at his body in shock, unable to do anything, even get up. Then she wasn't staring at his body anymore at all but the being that stood near it. Its rattling breath invaded her senses and the intensive glare captured her still. A Nephilim, she knew. It was the one that'd been following her.

The ugly beast seemed to realize her recognition and began approaching her next. Her limbs gained their feel when it did although she wasn't yet quite sober from the shock. She crept backwards clumsily as the demon descended to four-feet and followed her. There was something humble about it, clumsy even. She needed the distance, couldn't have it close to her so she crept further away from it and it came after her.

She realized it was supporting itself with its wrist instead of the hand that had two long index fingers smeared in blood. Its primary weapon, she thought, still crawling backwards in fear. Yet it was the face that horrified her the most; the mouth with the bare gums and teeth felt distorted and the human eyes that rested in dark holes were too intensive for a mindless beast.

The fear was enough to make her careless; she slipped on the wet grass, fell on her back and the paralysis made her freeze. It slowly caught up with her, crawling on top of her calmly while she had to fight the tears and close her eyes. It'd murdered Felix and now it wanted her. Everything would end in her failure.

The Nephilim opened its mouth and breathed a hot breath against her face, its rattlesnake like breath becoming louder in her ears. She gasped, opened her eyes and looked up. The eyes – they were such brilliant emerald – it was as if they held no ill intention. Its other claw approached her, making her turn her head away. She felt the dull nails touch her temple almost gently and trace it to her cheek.

Cassie could hear her own heartbeat, strong and wild and alive. She wasn't about to give up. If Azazeal wanted her dead she'd fight it because she knew she could. She turned her head again to look at the being defiantly when her courage rose and prepared to reach for her power to push that being from her. However those eyes were upon her again, pouring down to hers. This time she didn't despair and look away, no she gazed into them and found… clemency.

The eyes distanced themselves from her as the Nephilim rose. What? She thought, unable to grasp the truth. Had the monster been apologizing to her? Was it capable of feeling regret?

Then it roared a terrible battle roar, turning around and making her eyes follow its gaze. There was that girl, Ella, standing a small distance away from them and she looked complacent. Cassie didn't know what was going on but the Nephilim didn't hesitate when it charged at Ella through the air. Cassie watched it move under bewilderment. It stung her chest almost physically when Ella wrapped the demon in the party lights they'd decorated the area with. Ella was a witch!

It tried to rip itself through the wires and continued roaring madly at Ella while at it whereas Ella stared at the beast calmly. "This is one party you're gonna wish you'd missed," Ella claimed. She then threw the Nephilim backwards in the air making it land near Cassie. Pain flashed in the creature's eyes and Cassie felt guilt engulf her. It was only protecting her! The green eyes glanced at her again when the wires tightened around the Nephilim's body and especially throat. It roared in pain and Ella watched with satisfaction.

Cassie acted before she thought and the wires broke around the Nephilim, making Ella's eyes widen in disbelief. She then snapped her head at Cassie and made a sharp move with her hand. More wires were launched only this time at Cassie, whose view was quickly blocked the demon she'd helped save a few moments earlier. Midway in their flight the wires suddenly began disintegrating and seized being before they even reached Cassie.

Ella looked pissed. Her respiration had quickened like she was exhausted and she looked ready to kill the Nephilim with her bare hands. "Curse you." Her voice was raspy and full of disgust, yet not pointed at Cassie but towards the Nephilim. Cassie then watched the stumps of wings on the Nephilim's back slowly retreat as its skin changed from near black to white and it shrunk before her eyes.

"A bit late, aren't you Ella?" the Nephilim spoke with a pure voice. It was mocking Ella. Cassie came to realize that instead of a scaly monster she was now being protected by a young man of blonde hair. Ella though saw his cherub-like features as well and his daring grin.

"Baraqiel," she spat, cursing herself for not bringing her primary weapon with her. She knew this one was far too clever for any other attack if she didn't have the element of surprise. Right now it wasn't the only thing that worried her though; the way Azazeal's whore was looking at the demon in disguise was not a good sign. Hell, she'd even saved the bastard before seeing him in his angelic form.

Ella tried to move as quickly as she could but her concentration was broken when the ghost arrived to the scene, shouting for her friend's name. Baraqiel only needed that moment to tie his arms around Cassie and then vanish into thin air with her.

Her heart skipped a beat as she unable to realize this defeat. Everything had been perfectly planned! Cassandra would draw out her protector and Ella would then kill it. Why one earth had that girl helped the demon? Ella knew Cassandra was not on good terms with Azazeal and the beast had even slaughtered one of her friends a moment ago… And what about Baraqiel? Why was he protecting Cassandra when Azazeal had bigger problems he might've needed his favorite fledgling for?

Defeat tasted bitter now. Ella had hoped Azazeal would be drunk on his success and made at least some mistake. Yet he'd played one of his bigger cards very care-freely. Apparently old grudges about Esther had been forgotten then. Azazeal trusted Baraqiel to do his job, which he'd pretty done just now for just like Rachel, Cassandra was utterly taken by the fallen Watcher Baraqiel. It was the only poison of theirs Ella had no remedy for.

Behind her Thelma's cries grew stronger and more desperate. Perhaps she could be of assistance, Ella wondered before turning around abruptly and claiming Thelma's attention. "We need to talk."

-

**A/N**: Lyrics are Madonna's "Skin"

And thanks to **XUE** for the review. Always nice to know someone's reading.


	3. Saturnine Spell

**Stolen Season**

chapter three: Saturnine Spell

-

Most fallen are misanthropic; they didn't think humanity is worthy of God's praise. Azazeal would not bow his head before Adam, that lesser being, who had God's favor. Thus he was banished from heaven, cast down to earth and left there to suffer. Perhaps God assumed he'd learn from his mistakes, that he would come to respect the humans during his stay. If that's the case, it was naïve and foolish to think such.

Even if time has made the fallen angels appreciate humans they still see humans are something to use. They are above these mortal beings, they were here first. Their hatred for God is vast. God abandoned them for one sin alone but humans can break the rules and spit on God's face and not be forsaken even in death.

The reclined sun left but a crimson veil in its wake. The color, although agitating and anxious to many others, was soothing to his senses because it broke the illusion of reality, made it unreal. Heaven was real to him in a way his banishment had never been. Humans to throw around, angels to corrupt, vine and satisfaction had all brought his pleasure to its peak many times and yet not could compare to the bliss of being by God's side and feeling his clemency.

His name was crossed off from God's book and his existence cursed with his own mother language, the language of angels. Before the humans there hadn't been a foul word in that language, not a single word to grasp hatred, wrath or jealousy. If heaven were truly unchanged even with its prodigious children cast down, angels would still know nothing of forsaking or despising. They did though and the way their love for God had twisted into hate for demons told it all.

Azazeal still couldn't accept his punishment. The root of evil lay in the freedom of choice of men. It is what'd tainted their kind, not the wants or needs of angels.

He stepped away from the wide windows of his lair. The bloody dawn still brought no trace of Baraqiel's return and it disturbed him. His fledgling had run off with the mother of his child after all and in the human form he'd forbidden Baraqiel to use! It was just like with Rachel; the boy caught a glimpse of a woman worthy of Azazeal's attention and then made friends with her. He came so close she influenced his sight and opinions; made him feel pity and compassion again.

"Do you think this is mutiny?" Azazeal asked his companion softly, clearly without opinion about his own question.

He was troubled for this pattern in the recent events was not the first of its kind. In the past there'd been another incident where his commands had been broken and Baraqiel had acted on his accord. That angel had been so fond of Esther he'd tried to salvage her from the evil that lay in the child herself. Needless to say Baraqiel had failed.

Perie's hands were soon around him, touching him intimately, caressing. "He is protecting your witch from the Anointed One, just as you wanted."

Azazeal pulled away from the reach of her hands, simply putting down her opinion on the matter in the depths of his mind. Asking Perie about Baraqiel was the same as asking any other woman whether his childlike enthusiasm and appearance pleased their eyes. Just like many Perie had first worshipped the ground underneath his feet until she'd been rejected and only then noticed Azazeal himself. It didn't bother Azazeal the least; he could never envy Baraqiel, who'd been even God's favorite, for he wasn't blind to the grace of his servant either.

They were friends, brothers even, and his only will concerning Baraqiel was to keep him out of trouble. As long as Baraqiel served him he could watch over his 'young brother', but should Baraqiel turn against him there were only a few powers strong enough to claim his allegiance and Azazeal trusted none other. So perhaps he was possessive in his love. The traits that had eventually made him envious over God's attention had stayed within him and were still reflected to his relationships. He wanted a bit of control, untainted loyalty and obedience, however achieving all those qualities didn't seem to sate him enough as he'd learned with Perie. She offered no challenge, and had proved dull during the endless flow of centuries.

It wasn't like that with Baraqiel, or Cassie or his other favorites. They had the ability to contradict when necessary and Azazeal always enjoyed them straying because it meant they would eventually return to his graces and that moment was bittersweet.

Perie beside him was growing restless and with good reason. Despite her abilities and stealth she was inferior to the Nephilim and after Azazeal had awakened his most trusted angels her mission had been taken away from her and she was stuck in limbo, wondering whether she still had a place by his side, or even his shadow. She already knew she'd lost Azazeal's affection over to that witch, but to lose her position as well? She didn't appreciate this release from her duty at all.

They were greeted with care when two more joined their company. Perie saw this as her sign to leave Azazeal's side and hurried out of the way, humble fear giving her an extra dimension in the arriving angels' eyes. Azazeal didn't even notice her leaving; he was too absorbed by the sight of his general and a familiar messenger.

On his right stood Sariel, his most belligerent ally and the luminous leader of his army to come. She was not clad in heavenly amour as she'd been during her most glorious days, but instead dressed in human clothing that covered her sex from most curious eyes. Her long blonde hair was tied to a long braid and the juvenile t-shirt and jeans only increased the hypothesis of her young age. She was the 'moon of God', calm on the surface but powerful and beautiful in her wrath. Unfortunate for him though, Sariel was ultimately loyal only to Baraqiel, having witnessed the venom of Azazeal's plotting nature firsthand in the past.

Next to Sariel, clad in equal clothing of dark shades and little detail – or more commonly said a sweater and loose jeans – stood Xaphan, who was the only true demon in their presence. Mischief lived in Xaphan's eyes, leaving an expression of unimportance in his short but slim figure and his plucked hair that was pointing at all directions cut in different lengths all around his head. Azazeal knew the story behind this one though and didn't let his appearance fool him either. If he ever found another fallen angel that was as trigger happy and loved fire half as much as Xaphan, he'd be more than surprised.

Azazeal didn't stop to examine the two for long though, simply gruffed an amused "You're late" at them.

Sariel's eyes claimed his immediately and her trimmed eyebrows approached her eyes threateningly. "Xaphan was followed," she explained, not allowing Azazeal to doubt her words for a second. Beside her Xaphan shot his traitorous escort with a disappointed glare before focusing on Azazeal again.

"Considering how long I've been running between you and your friends it's really no wonder. Your deadlines are impossible!" He retorted, completing his taunting with a complacent smirk. He looked strange when paired with the alabaster skinned angel as his own skin was more golden than anything. Xaphan also had wicked eyes, their brown approaching red in the proper lighting whereas Sariel's were pure blue.

Azazeal couldn't help but wonder who could've suspected an unimportant individual like Xaphan enough to trail his steps? After all, the demon was more of brat than anything else. "Who?" He voiced his thoughts soon after.

"Wouldn't know," Xaphan answered in his usual arrogant style. "However, if we can just get on with this so I can return to the place where I belong instead of playing a mortal in this stupid plane." His suggestion was the same as always. Xaphan had always disliked humans and their plain and appeared to be happy only by his lord's side.

"Samyaza has been alerted to the progress of your plans. Lucifer is practically beaming at everyone, because he believes you'll succeed," Xaphan went on explaining upon realizing he'd silenced both Watchers by his side. He'd never taken much liking to the Nephilim or their profile but after an eternity of serving as the link between the three allies, these people were slowly growing on him, well, as much as animate things could grow on him.

"What is Samyaza's condition?" Azazeal hesitated when asking the question. He knew there was little to do until the release of their companion now, but something about Samyaza's attitude of late bothered him. The original Nephilim leader had been contained in his special prison alone for the longest time with nothing but Xaphan's random visits as his counter for time. Could even an angel survive such isolation in perfect fit? Above all he was worried about Xaphan though. That perverted boy of demon had an influence over Samyaza being his only contact to the outside world, it was certain, but how far had he gone in exercising it?

As if sensing Azazeal's doubts, Xaphan gave a reassured smile and convinced Samyaza was still in a prime condition. Then again, the word of a demon held only so little weight.

Sariel was moving restlessly beside the two. She was uncomfortable in this place, and missed her other companions after their long imprisonment. She yearned to know about Baraqiel and Tamiel, her closest brothers. Surely Azazeal wouldn't allow any danger to befall upon them?

"Fine. What about Malachi's protection? Can I count on Lucifer's aide in the matter?" Thinking of his son immediately brought Cassie to Azazeal's thoughts and her cursed presence in them remained. He couldn't help feeling unease because of Baraqiel again. What was he trying to achieve with this abduct? Was Baraqiel truly loyal until the very end?

Xaphan snorted and made a bored face. "Do you even need to ask? Even I know it's obvious, and I don't even have a part in these plans." He truly had a child's patience and a mind that started craving for fire the same moment he was no longer in any immediate danger. Azazeal didn't quite appreciate Xaphan's mordant tone of voice and was about to comment on it when Sariel grasped his wrist and moved closer to him. A warning lived in her eyes – it enough to stop Azazeal from taking action.

"Your work here is done, Xaphan. Leave," Sariel hissed and moved past Azazeal for a view of the window. Xaphan made faces at both of the Nephilim but didn't stay and argue. He had better things to do after all. It didn't take him but a hint of a thought until he had already vanished into darkness, satisfied to be finally able to leave the Nephilim's side. After he'd gone and Sariel was sure there was nothing else to disrupt them she turned to Azazeal again, with a gripping aura of seriousness overtaking her.

"I've been informed that the Anointed One has just visited your bride… Why did you send Baraqiel to perform such a belittling task? Is there a meaning to this?"

Somehow, had anyone else questioned his actions with such an icy tone, Azazeal would've instantly given them a painful reminder of his position atop the food chain. Sariel was a different matter though. She'd never be fully tamed and she'd never fully acknowledge Azazeal's leadership, no, she only followed because of Baraqiel. Had Baraqiel not accepted Azazeal, Sariel would've forever followed Samyaza, or maybe even given her servitude and loyalty to Lucifer. That woman didn't especially like him, or respect him. It was one of the reasons he didn't restrict her actions though.

"She needs to be protected from outside influence. Who'd be better in protecting a mortal than Baraqiel, who appreciates them so?" Azazeal responded, even conjuring up a smirk. Yes, he was well aware of Ella's resurface and had already prepared for her defeat with Ramiel's help.

"He's overqualified to look after your whore. If you had any sense left, you'd have killed her by now," she responded, her dark glare clearly stating her opinion in the matter. He wasn't offended though but rather flattered instead. He approached her, moved his hand to touch her cheek, instantly causing her to step away from his reach.

"Haven't I given you enough attention Sariel?" he asked amused and smiling. Of course he knew she could only care for Baraqiel, hell, the woman had always followed him around like a puppy. Then again her relations with Samyaza were also questionable. Sariel's eyes were emitting sparks at him now. Yes, he did like rejection in a masochistic way. A woman needed to have the strength to deny him at first, like Cassie.

"You know as well as I do that you're nothing but a neat compilation of suitable genes. When Samyaza is freed, you'll be nothing again." She finally let out her claws fully, confessing everything on her mind with a few simple sentences. It froze him for a second, for even with her frigid surface Azazeal had thought Sariel could be won over by time. Apparently the woman had far grater dislike for him than he'd ever thought. Yet it was strange for Sariel to be so hell bent on serving Samyaza after all this time…

Azazeal allowed his despise to become visible on his face. He straightened his posture gaining some additional height that put him above her. He knew he could've crushed her now, finally made her pay for her insolence and taken a great deal of pleasure in doing so. Yet he could only imagine how Tamiel and Baraqiel and of course Samyaza would react to his actions and he didn't need to complicate things further. In the end, she was one of the twenty leaders of the Nephilim, even if he'd been raised above all the others.

Only Samyaza, the true leader of the Nephilim, who was still caged by God had more influence than him. They all knew a fight for leadership would ensue upon Samyaza's return and speeding the process would efficiently weaken Azazeal's stand in that fight. No, he let go of his anger and glared at the woman in front of him. Then he grasped her shoulder before she could resist.

"Listen to me very carefully," Azazeal advised, while allowing the vision of her plight intoxicate him. She grimaced because of the pain of his nails in her flesh yet that rebellious spark remained in her eyes. She'd always loved power, been drawn to it like a moth, which quite clearly explained why Samyaza had been able to tempt her despite her iron will.

"I have withstood your insults over my judgment, my bride, and even the insolence you've so enthusiastically shoved at my face for several millennia. I will not however withstand you questioning my position and my part in this grand play we created after God humiliated us and abandoned us."

His grip grew stronger, made her whimper and grasp for her weapons. He then let her go, and watched as she gasped for air on the floor. A teardrop appeared in the corner of her eye but she gathered herself quickly, getting up like nothing had just happened. Her blonde hair had been freed from the ponytail and it now landed over her shoulders as an untamed cloud. He'd been able to shake her a bit, but she still wouldn't yield. She'd never yield to him.

"No wonder it took you an eternity to sire an offspring, Azazeal," she said. "You just couldn't get enough of humans, enough of humiliation and stalling so you might prove how you're worth something to the Nephilim."

He was tempted to grab her again, but he knew better. The ice queen was plotting something already, savoring the mental image immensely. "Unfortunately you can't screw every angel in the Nephilim with your charm and in the end you're just be the parvenu you were when you joined us."

She marched out, upholding perfect grace and royalty in her movement and appearance when she fled their battlefield. Azazeal felt weary. He'd known the Nephilim would start to fall apart at this point but he'd hoped none of Samyaza's loyal ones would be too strong. Perhaps a foolish wish, but he knew he had nothing until Malachi was fully grown up and he would most certainly be threatened at this point if they were to get rid of him.

The fallen and demons, even the angels in heaven, had all been tainted; all were deceivers, who had opinions and persona unlike God had intended. What was true loyalty anymore? What was pure love when God would not respond to it? There was no replacement for the wound the Creator had cut when abandoning them. The only thing that made it heal was the sight of his son, the miracle God would've never wanted to exist. Azazeal knew he would never abandon his son, never drive him away, or disown him. He wouldn't repeat the sins of his own parent.

Just then he thought of Baraqiel again, but not because of Cassie or Sariel. Baraqiel had been God's favorite, the one taught everything, the one God had never intended abandoning even during the darkest hour. Still Baraqiel had turned his back on God, refused his lineage and joined the ranks of the deserted. Even if Azazeal loved his son, it wouldn't be enough for Malachi could still leave him one day and refuse his father.

Azazeal sat down now, rubbing his face and leaning against the chair's back. The child wasn't here anymore; his crying didn't wake him up at night. Already Malachi was safer when not with his father. Was this shadow the shadow over his future?

-

Thelma could not even begin to express her distrust towards this Ella, who'd just stepped in town and was suddenly taking part in their lives like she was obligated to interfere. So she was a witch? Big deal, it didn't mean she or Cassie needed her help. Besides Ella's attitude wasn't helping her any, in her attempt to appear trustworthy. The bitch had the nerve to order her around! - Like she was her puppy or something. So clearly Thelma ignored Ella's orders and stood still, rather focusing on the sight of Felix's corpse.

She'd never liked Felix; he'd been more of an awkward nuisance than anything but Cassie, being the nice person she was, hadn't minded him at all. Showing kindness to that creep had naturally misled him and made him develop that ridiculous crush on her. It must've been why the Nephilim had eventually killed him. Now his death wasn't something Thelma had wished for despite her dislike for the poor sob. No one deserved a death like that, another death like hers. But apparently Azazeal was hell bent on keeping Cassie for himself and eliminating all competition. Sadly the thought only made her feel increasing agony as she remembered her own fate that somewhat echoed this tragedy.

Cassie couldn't go on living like this. She'd suffocate trying to steer clear from people if she feared the Nephilim would try and harm them. It was too cruel to inflict such pain on her repeatedly, simply inhuman! It proved Azazeal was nothing but a jealous and possessive man, just the type Thelma had tried to protect her friend from all these years. If Cassie didn't love her then at least she should've been able to love someone, who treated her right!

She tore her eyes away from the body and faced Ella was observing her with an expression of absolute boredom. "Are you ready to listen to me now?" the red head asked still sounding more than self-absorbed but Thelma let it slide, clinging onto the hope that maybe Ella had some answers. She for one needed to know whether Cassie was alright and if she needed to start worrying over her existence again.

"Spill it out, I know you're just dying to enlighten me," Thelma remarked, closing the space between herself and the sullen witch. She'd decided by herself to try and appear as unmoved as possible in front of that dominant tease. It was the only way she could squeeze what she needed from Ella as quickly and painlessly as possible. Hell, she might even enjoy acting this out.

Ella's smile was skew. "Your friend there doesn't seem as independent from Azazeal as you two have led me to believe," she stated coldly, knowing the ghost just needed to be frightened a bit to get her co-operative. Jealousy would rid her of any resistance in no time.

"Cassie doesn't want to be near him ever again, so I suggest you stop insinuating such. She's seen what he does to people around him and knows what a sick prick he is. It doesn't mean he'd stop trying to hurt her though, no, he has the child for leverage," Thelma responded, crossing her arms across her chest. She didn't like Ella taking the higher ground to Cassie at all, seeing as she hadn't done anything to prove her superiority just yet. Besides no one insulted Cassie with her around!

"I see," Ella sighed, tilting her head as if she was admitting her defeat. "I bet that is why she just saved a Nephilim from certain death and escaped with him."

The blonde man's face flashed before Thelma's eyes again and then the position he'd been in when they'd vanished. A Nephilim? He had to be the one that'd killed Felix and followed Cassie around, which would also mean he'd been ordered to look out for Cassie. Strangely the thought felt correct. The man had been in front of Cassie, shielding her from Ella's attack, hadn't he? Oh, Ella really had nothing on her!

"You attacked Cassie!" she raised her voice threateningly, only making Ella shake her head. There really was no taking sense to these girls; they were already head over heels in the mutiny against God!

"I suppose you haven't noticed that she's aiding renegade angels in waging war against Heaven!?" she hissed back, more than aware she had nothing to apologize for. After all she was on a mission from God, an Anointed One fighting demons that sought only to make this world into their perverse image. She had every right to hunt down that girl and fucking spank her for her stupidity.

"She was fooled into it!" Thelma defended her best friend fiercely.

"Not this time. This time she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew he was a demon, and I a witch and she chose to aide him." In her mind Ella could only compliment Baraqiel for yet another successful mindfuck he'd performed on Cassie. The girl she'd met before had been aware of her abuse and willing to do anything to stop Azazeal, and yet she'd yielded before Baraqiel and been turned into an ally anew.

Thelma really had no reply for this accusation. She couldn't defend her friend without knowing why she'd done what she'd done. Hell, even she was confused as to why Cassie had saved that rather hunky looking demon without seeing his fine features first. Perhaps the demon had brainwashed her after all? Used some kind of mind control mojo? Fear was rising within her again; if the Nephilim was a servant of Azazeal's would he hurt Cassie? There were no guarantees.

Ella moved by her side, circling her in a predatory manner. "You're seeing it too now? Seeing through the beautiful lie, the shell, and realizing what he is inside?"

Ella knew this demon before hand? Thelma looked at her, worried more than anything. "Well tell me if you know! Who is he?"

"He's name is Baraqiel and he's a Watcher of the Nephilim, one of the twenty leaders under Azazeal's command. He was a favorite of God before he fell and now he's one of the most deadly allies of Azazeal."

He was also a powerful presence: youthful, seductive, trustworthy and convincing. There was terrible power in Baraqiel, and Ella had felt it. They'd dueled for days, carrying on by simple spirit. No, Baraqiel wasn't just any fallen angel, his status was legendary and his servitude desired among the many dukes and Satans in Hell. Perhaps even God willed his return to Heaven.

"Will he hurt her?" Thelma asked, preparing for the worst. Ella simply shook her head. "It shouldn't be beneficial to their goals."

By now they'd gone on and on by believing their part in the angels' plots would be over soon but truthfully Thelma didn't see this game ending soon at all anymore. Azazeal had wanted a son to release the Nephilim from their prison and now he had one. What more could he want from them?

"What do they want? Azazeal has his son, his people are free! Can't they just lay low and enjoy life?"

Ella smirked at the question. "They hate humans, Thelma. They hate you because God loved you more. So simply put they want revenge."

Which was the truth in a nutshell. What lay outside the nutshell was far more complicated. Malachi's birth had just started their masterplan and put things in motion. Then there were the other wildcards to consider: Gods angels and interference from the Anointed One, maybe even the true demons of Lucifer. Even the ranks of the Nephilim were divided and would be broken to units should the true leader of the Nephilim ever be freed from his prison.

"That look means trouble, doesn't it?" Thelma whined, frowning at the sight of Ella's saturnine appearance. Surprisingly Ella laughed. "More than you can even imagine. The Nephilim plan to raise hell, literally! …And I'm the only one who can stop them, so I'd appreciate a little help."

Yeah, help. It was tricky, because helping Ella just might mean turning against Cassie should Ella be correct about this Baraqiel having seduced Cassie to the dark side or whatever. Still the end of the world sounded like a bigger betrayal than trying to bring some sense into Cassie's deluded head. The girl had been through enough for the past months. If Thelma could help vanquish the Nephilim from Cassie's life forever, it'd be enough.

She felt very decisive all of the sudden, rejuvenated really. Even Ella noticed the difference and nodded approvingly. "If I do this," Thelma started making sure Ella truly caught the seriousness in her voice, "You'll have to tell me absolutely everything you know about the Nephilim."

"Fine," Ella agreed, pleased that finally something was going well. "I will tell you everything you want to know once we've relocated to a better suited location," she promised, noticing that they were still in much too close proximity to the corpse. Should they be found like this, there'd be simply too much additional trouble. Thelma realized this as well and they quickly changed the scenery, closing themselves inside the walls of Ella's room.

Thelma didn't stop to admire the decoration or ancient looking artifacts that surrounded the place, no; she needed to absorb whatever Ella had to tell her as quickly as possible so she might've found a way to help Cassie. Ella relaxed, laying over her bed and removing her boots now that she had the chance to do so.

"So, you promised you'd tell," Thelma challenged her new ally almost giddily. "What does Azazeal want?"

"Azazeal wants power; he wants something to replace God with. I'd imagine leading the Nephilim and having a family would suffice that need. However he also wants revenge against God for his abandonment." Ella checked upon Thelma's doings, to insure she was really listening instead of focusing on looking for food in her room. She'd noticed the ghost seemed to support a never-ending appetite.

"He has allies in Hell and plans to somehow attack heaven; bring about the End of Days and survive victorious."

"What about Cassie?" Thelma asked, turning to look at Ella. The witch had already said Azazeal wanted a family, but did that include the mother of his child?

Ella however wasn't as worried as Thelma was. "She should be fine, if Azazeal wishes it. However our only concern isn't Azazeal. You see, even with Malachi, he is replaceable. There's a power struggle going on, and it'll decide, who'll get to rule when the war is over. Should it be Azazeal, Cassie should be fine. Should it be anyone else in Hell, both she and Azazeal are doomed to die, because they might influence their own child and render him incontrollable."

Thelma felt astounded. "Are you saying that Malachi is the key to this End of Days? That it can't happen without him?"

Ella nodded lazily. "Precisely the reason Azazeal was encouraged and supported by so many in his desire to acquire an offspring. He was the most suitable one for the purpose."

"In other words all we need to do is defeat Azazeal and then pretty much all of Hell or… kill Malachi?" Thelma reasoned, horrified with the thought of having to sacrifice Cassie's child to ensure existence as they knew it. No, there had to be another way! There just had to!

"You're forgetting the Nephilim. They aren't just mindless beasts following Azazeal. You see originally they were led by an angel called Samyaza, who was locked away into an even more terrible prison, because he was much more dangerous than any of his subordinates. Some of the Nephilim still follow him and should he be freed, he'd be another dangerous contestant in the war."

Ella didn't know much about this Samyaza, just whispers and rumors from the Nephilim she'd destroyed and half-truths from the angels she served. There was reverence when they referred to him and fear. Obviously Samyaza was a worthy advisory even to God, having been one of his most powerful angels.

Thelma shrugged. "Damn, Azazeal's almost sounding like a good option with all that background information!" She'd thought knowing these things would bring more clarity to her thoughts but instead things were even more confusing in her head. How was she supposed to save Cassie if the only way was to kill her own son!

"Not all demons want this. There are some who view it better to keep things the way they are than making God angry again, so we might find strange allies in our quest," Ella comforted Thelma, upon noticing how torn the ghost looked. Thelma had sat down and was staring at the floor now while she fought her distraught quietly. Ella almost felt sorry for her. No matter what Thelma decided to do, she'd end up bringing grief to her friend and disappearing from existence herself. It was a no win situation.

Thelma gazed out of the window, full of information for the time being. Even if the Nephilim didn't want any harm to befall on Cassie, Azazeal's failure to gain control would ensure her death. Wasn't there any way to protect her friend now?

-

**A/N**: Seeing as Hex isn't entirely true to the Enoch's fallen angels, I've also taken liberties. So if you know something isn't as you think it is, I'm probably aware of the change and have changed it on purpose.


	4. One Weak

**Stolen Season**

chapter four: one weak

-

**Medenham, 1762**

She clawed the door even though she no longer had any nails left in her fingers. Blood stained the door; wooden splinters penetrated her flesh and drew out pain and whimpers from the crying girl. She didn't stop trying though, she wouldn't give up! She wasn't deranged or faulty; her mind was crystal clear. But he didn't believe her. He kept her locked up here day after day, giving her little to look forward to. That drunken despicable man! How could he do this?

Esther collapse crying again, squeezing her fingers inside the hem of her dress that was soon stained in blood as well. Her hair was entangled, dirty, seeing as she hadn't been given a chance to bathe or wash herself for months now. The attic was cold and it stunk and she hated being kept there. They'd covered the walls during their last visit to hide the pictures she'd drawn. It was the pictures that'd made him go berserk to begin with. He'd muttered vicious words, calling her mother a whore and a witch and looked at her with utter despise.

She just wanted things to be as they had been before. She'd been allowed to go outside, play with her mother's things, and wear her old clothes so that no matter what she did she would feel close to the woman she'd never met. The servants – all unfamiliar with her mother, but having served here since her birth – had raised her and made sure she was fine. And when she'd strayed, occasionally on purpose as well, he'd been there to take her back home – Baraqiel, her protector.

He'd tell her things about her mother, speak of wonders she'd never seen. No matter what she'd wanted, her wishes had never been beyond his power to fulfill. No matter had been too little to obtain his attention. He was the parent her father could've never been since his decadence had begun. Baraqiel said he was unable to go on without her mother and that she'd held him together. She liked believing such romantic notions, but was more than aware by now that he didn't want to tell her everything. At the age of sixteen, Esther knew more than well that the beautiful man she'd grown to love was preparing for something, a separation that made both their hearts ache.

It'd begun when he'd first taken her to see that dark man, Azazeal, as the stranger had introduced himself. Things had changed after that rather innocent encounter. Baraqiel had become troubled and sad. He'd vanished for long periods of time and come back with a distant look in his eyes. He'd looked beaten; his lively spirit defeated like an invisible force was holding him back. Esther had seen Azazeal again and he'd approached her differently, making her insides stir with each word and look. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him.

She'd tried to make sense of things when everything was suddenly going wrong. Accidents had happened, and she'd been struck down by fear. Visions of Azazeal had haunted her after she'd found her mother's urn. Voices of advice had told her to resort to unusual measures in keeping him away, keep his tricks from reaching her. They were tricks decent people knew nothing of and could only be warded off by strange methods: crosses and hair entangled hair together, speaking backwards. It hadn't worked for he'd noticed and warned her not to play with him. He'd kissed her and the anguish grew deeper and deeper. Her father, having glanced at the drawings she couldn't even realize having drawn, had grown outraged and locked her up. She'd wanted to see Baraqiel, but no one knew who she was talking about!

Her sobs became quieter again as she gained control over her raging emotions. Even if she hated it here at least she didn't need to see him again. Being around Azazeal muffled the voice of her thoughts, covered everything in fog. She wasn't herself around him; she got bold and rude and modesty and all her manners vanished as soon as she was made to look at him. A part of her repelled him, but at the same time another part embraced him!

She didn't even realize when Baraqiel appeared next to her, she was too deep in her own world. She could barely breathe for so deep the anguish of her current situation was. It made her dysfunction and lay down, broken. He took her hands in his, looked through her injury and tears glimmered in those eyes she loved. Without saying a word she pushed herself in his arms, disbelieving that he was finally here after she'd called for his name so many times without an answer. If he'd been a dream or a hallucination she would've surely given up for good.

"Don't cry, Esther," he pleaded, raking through her hair with his hand while the other held her still in his arms. He'd kneeled to the floor to hold her, calm her down, but his guilt wasn't removed by any sweet gesture he performed. He'd left her unshielded by request of his master. He was the cause of her pain, of this nightmare she'd dwelled for much too long. She'd waited for him, called out to him in vain. She was his to protect, no matter who she truly belonged to.

"Forgive me for leaving you," he whispered, tightening the hold he had of her. He'd never left her since she'd been born. It'd been his duty to stay by her side, fight any enemy who wanted to harm her, keep her away from people. He'd been a decadent angel; roused by Rachel's antics the humans had labeled witch craft. Women, men, rituals, drugs, no matter what she'd come up with he'd followed. But when Azazeal had shot her to pieces with his malice and she'd lost the little sanity she had left all that had lost meaning. She'd had a child, a daughter meant to bear Azazeal's child and he was to take care of her.

"Why is this happening?" She asked him, unsure if he would even give her an answer. He served Azazeal didn't he? His loyalties were with that dark creature and not with her like she'd always believed. But she couldn't be mad at him, couldn't abandon him. He was her cherub, a friend that only belonged to her.

"Your father wants to punish you because you, just like your mother, are being seduced by Azazeal," he replied, refusing to look at her while they spoke. It was better to look away, not be reminded of the harm he'd caused her.

"You serve him."

He was truly beginning to wish he didn't, but he couldn't lie, couldn't deny his duty so he nodded. "Has God abandoned me Baraqiel?" She questioned, pulling away from him enough to look at his face. His eyes were shadowed by his dirty blonde hair, which was all real and not a wig like the men she was used to seeing wore. Handsome, tortured, clearly torn between his duty and her: How could she do him anymore harm?

"Perhaps," he said blinking, shifting his gaze uncomfortably. "I'll keep you safe, Esther, I promise," he proceeded to vow. She couldn't stay here anymore – even Azazeal had to see that. He'd approached her too young, she wasn't ready to be tempted like that! In a few years time, yes, if only he could take her away and then return her in a few years time…

All those years in damnation, being disowned by God, hunted down every time he got to escape the Abyss, he'd never considered Azazeal's way evil or wicked. He'd never questioned Azazeal's lead, even when they'd acted against God! And just for her he wanted to change. It was unreal.

She glanced at her fingers again; winced because the pain upon moving them, and made him snap out of his thoughts. He reached out for his pockets, and drew out a long white ribbon that he began wrapping around her hands. She observed him: the endearing commitment she recognized in him. For that moment she was sure nothing could ever harm her again.

-

**The Present**

Truth be told, he was glad to be out of Medenham. Ill memories dwelled there underneath his enthusiasm, which was caused by the decadent environment that reminded him all too clearly of the time when Rachel had still been alive. He'd tried hard, focusing on the underlying extravagance of his nature that'd been his defining trait so many centuries ago. He'd thought about adventures, vine and vices but in the end they'd all remained but distant whispers when compared to the screams of the past that still filled the halls.

He'd been to the attic, seen the drawings, and smelled the blood that'd been spilled there. He'd stood by that tree, finding Azazeal there as well, contemplating heavy thoughts. He was sure Azazeal had regrets; even felt sorrow when he stood by that grave, but Azazeal had moved on and found new prey. He'd even learned from his mistakes so now everything was perfect; the past was forgotten and along with it the terrible atrocities that'd taken place here.

But _she_ was there as well. _She_ had not vanished into the labyrinth of time. _She_ lived.

He'd smirked when he'd seen her, but the façade had disappeared when she had been out of his sight. He'd watched them condemn her! She should've died suffering like the ones she'd killed had. Yet Ella was here, mocking him with her continuing existence. She'd nearly killed him when he'd recklessly attacked her, overcome by his blind rage. Nothing and everything was the same as it'd been before: Him and her fighting, and Azazeal's witch standing between them.

He'd had to have known she was still here, so the question remained why hadn't he told him? How could've Azazeal kept this from him? Baraqiel had been wondering why Cassandra needed such protection. Why indeed when the Anointed bitch was supposed to be dead? Perhaps because she was still breathing her every breath for the purpose of destroying every last Nephilim in the name of God's tainted angels? They were too scared to face the fallen, so they sent a good witch, a lapdog to Raphael's wishes.

Baraqiel was beyond angered. He almost wanted to sleep again, walk the happier miles of his existence during those years. But he couldn't hide away, couldn't simply forget.

He sighed, sitting down on the one chair in the room and turned his gaze on her again. Cassandra was sleeping over the sofa, exhausted by their travel through space. Humans weren't built to withstand the passing through such powers, at least not properly. Actually now that he was close and really focused she didn't look anything like Esther, or Rachel. The hair was the same whereas the rest was different, almost foreign to him. Good, he was glad that at least one thing didn't remind him of those times. He'd had enough of reminiscent for awhile.

She moved unconsciously, shifted just enough for the jacket he'd placed on her to fall. He rose, reached her with a few steps and pulled it back over her shoulders. She was precious to Azazeal unlike some of his former lovers. He would not take any harm that'd befallen on her lightly, Baraqiel knew that much. She'd made Azazeal's appearance reveal disturbing things to the fallen angel upon their meeting.

Concern – since when had Azazeal felt actual concern for any human? Herath maybe, but that was a long time ago. Baraqiel had begun to believe Azazeal was drained from affection, because of the treatment God had given him. Yet he was obviously quite attached to his son as well, which contradicted Baraqiel's earlier judgment to his indifferent character.

Baraqiel leaned back in his chair, stared out the window and into the fields that surrounded their little haven for now. Things looked rather cloudy from here on.

Cassie had been awake for some time now, albeit completely exhausted from their escape. She had time to think things over while he did the same. She felt bitter inside, guilty for being the cause of Felix's death, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to really blame the Nephilim by her side. He was following orders wasn't he?

"You had no right to kill him," Cassie whispered sullenly, finally revealing her conscious state to him. He might've known all along, needed time to think equally, for she saw no surprise in his eyes when she peeked at him through the veil of her hair.

"I made a mistake. I thought he was hurting you," the angel answered, sounding particularly indifferent. Apparently he didn't value human life like she did, just felt sorry for causing unnecessary inconvenience. She pressed her teeth together, tried to swallow the information and stop blaming herself. Yet the truth was he'd been sorry when he'd crawled to her, forced her to look into his eyes. She knew he had.

"Azazeal had no right to make you hunt down people I care about," she shot back eyes flaming with pure rage. But more than the tool of Azazeal's will she was angry at the Nephilim leader himself. He was on a path to deprave everyone from her life and it'd started already when she was young. He'd manipulated her mother and who knew what the story was with her father? Azazeal had done everything in his power to control the outcome, shape her into something he could control.

He avoided looking at her, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Baraqiel had imagined what his first words to her might've been. They'd been comforting, almost gentle in his head. But fate had intervened and one grave error had been enough to spark hatred between them. Their meeting couldn't have gone more wrong than it had. Now she would unable to trust him, which definitely made his job more difficult. At least she was still alive though. If Ella had her will done, Cassie's life would've cruelly ended before she could damage the wench's precious natural order any further.

She rose to sit on the sofa, knees tightly together and her whole appearance apparently tensed. Who knew what she was thinking? Escape, violence, revenge… or perhaps she was curious, not so deeply touched by the death of that young man. A part of her repelled him and another embraced?

"Will you take me back?" Cassie asked, afraid she'd lose her nerve before getting that far. She couldn't call his behavior kindness when the deed he'd done had been spilling blood. Yet there was something in the way he'd taken care of her that proved he was stripped of cruel motives and merely hoped for her well-being. She'd been moved, felt hopeful again, which was a luxury she had lost upon entering this nightmare with the fallen.

"No, I won't," he said grimly and stood up. He was rolling up his white sleeves as he walked up to her. She shivered when he stopped right next to her and glared directly at her. The empathy she'd seen in him before had been drained out. Something weighted him down, made him grim and displeased. Cassie could feel her whole body tense in case she'd need to get up with haste.

"Can I ask why?" Her voice shivered but she appeared stronger than before. She wasn't afraid was she?

"Earlier you revealed yourself in order to… protect me. Wouldn't that make you my guardian?" She tried reasoning her way out of this mess now. Perhaps she'd been mistaken gravely by trusting this quite obviously feral and bloodthirsty being, but as long as he was controllable she knew she could still straighten things out. She truly felt sorry for Felix, but if he was to be the price she paid for turning things to her victory, then so be it. She had to be ruthless to succeed, ruthless to be able to continue. Otherwise she might've as well believed everything Azazeal said blindly and simply allowed him to hinder the difference between white and black for good.

He laughed at her conclusions aloud, but it wasn't mocking laughter. "I'm not yours to control Cassandra. Even if my purpose is to keep you alive, you cannot influence me," he explained. Azazeal had given strict orders not to allow her play him for a fool. She'd want to see her son, try and steal him perhaps.

"Fine. Although you should remember, who it is that saved you earlier on." Her tone of voice was cool, almost numb, but had little effect on him. She wasn't too shaken about that boy that was for sure.

"It does intrigue me," he admitted. "You're not on friendly terms with Azazeal and many were sure you'd come to regret your past time with him enough to assist the Anointed One in her attempts to destroy the Nephilim, and still you turn completely against her for a humble fallen angel just moments after he had killed your escort."

"It just happened," she defended herself, unsure if that was the truth. She'd been confused, still was, and somehow even he couldn't bring clarity to this. He felt oddly familiar, clearly had a secret that tempted her to unravel it. He certainly didn't look like a mysterious stranger, like Azazeal had. No, he seemed younger, barely adult, in her eyes. He wasn't a puppet master for sure.

"Do I fascinate you?" he asked, making her stir and stop her evaluation. She couldn't quite call it fascination, although questions did arise. He and Ella seemed to share a history, seeing how strongly he'd responded to her presence. It further proved that Ella was a witch, a theory Cassie had had for awhile now.

Still she couldn't stop her gaze from wandering. "Made any interesting comparisons between myself and Azazeal?" he further taunted her, unable to have much effect this time though. "You're night and day," she responded, quickly losing interest in this subject. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied.

"So you're just going to keep me here until Azazeal says I can go?"

Not quite, seeing as Azazeal didn't even know where they were and wouldn't exactly burst from happiness after realizing he'd taken off with Cassandra. He'd done it before, ran off with his protégée under Azazeal's nose. It hadn't ended well, almost like he'd been cursed the moment he'd strayed. "He doesn't know where we are. No one does." His reply was flat, further confusing her.

"But you're a Nephilim, you serve him!" She exclaimed, beginning to feel the frustration expand inside her. She couldn't stay here; have these empty conversations with the nameless Nephilim. No wait, she struggled with her memory. Ella had called him something, given a name to the brooding figure next to her and Azazeal as well. Archangel, high priest of Heaven… Baraqiel! Which would mean he was Azazeal's right hand angel, wouldn't it?

"As much as a black and white world appeals to you humans, it is not so. There's no clear white and there's certainly no clear black."

She frowned at this response.

"You think Ella is good? Can someone, who murders without guilt be good? Am I evil for following Azazeal? Was I created for nothing but blind servitude without the joys and pleasures humans have? Should I have bowed my head to you feeble creatures, so fragile and precious when compared to our diamond skin?" He paused; made sure she was still following the underlying though in this outburst.

"Things aren't simple; they're layered and scraping off one layer reveals ten underneath it."

Cassie stood up as if suddenly grasping some strange truth, she'd been seeking. "I've seen you before," she claimed, eyes wide in recognition. "When I was possessed I had dreams of a room, a court. Occasionally I was there, and occasionally Rachel. You were there with her."

A slight smirk crept across Baraqiel's face. He remembered those times: the parties, secrecy and excitement. Rachel had enjoyed being the center of attention.

"You cared deeply for her," Cassie continued examining his reaction. He nodded almost humbly at the insight.

"Were you her protector?" she asked.

"If I was I certainly didn't do a very good job at it," was his reply. He had affinity for humans, a dislike in watching Azazeal tear their lives apart upon entering them. He did however know that the Abyss was no option and that sacrifices had to be made.

"You must tell me!" Cassie demanded, grasping her shining ray of hope with both hands. "You must tell me everything about Rachel – and Esther too!"

"Why would I?"

"Because we have to learn from history, not hide it," she claimed.

Learn from history, eh? Azazeal had done that; his witch was still alive, wasn't she? He also had to know Ella was apparently fireproof. What was there for Cassie to learn from history? That denying Azazeal didn't lead to salvation or that trusting him was the same as certain death? But she had saved him, granted him forgiveness even when she shouldn't have. Did he want to see her suffer further? No, he might be saving her by telling her. He might cast the shadow on Ella for a change.

-

**A/N**: Does anyone know if the year of Ella's persecution was mentioned beyond "around 17th century" in the show?


End file.
